


Feel the Fire

by smallearthcat (vamplover82)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Oblivious Stiles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-02
Updated: 2013-12-02
Packaged: 2018-01-02 18:30:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1060123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vamplover82/pseuds/smallearthcat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles, somewhat to Derek's surprise, turns out to have a pretty great body.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feel the Fire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [fauvistfly](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fauvistfly/gifts).



> Comments and con crit. are much appreciated.

Once they discovered that the Alpha Pack was in town and Erica and Boyd were missing, it was all hands on deck. Unfortunately, all hands on deck didn't include Scott, but on the other hand, it did include Stiles. Derek never was certain just how Stiles got pulled into it all; after all, he hadn't told the kid about the Alpha Pack. And yet, the first day they met at the loft Derek was thinking about making his new home, Stiles was the first one through the door.

"You really need to consider picking a new place to have these meetings."

Derek opened his mouth, either to remind Stiles that this is the first time anyone but Derek has been to the loft or to ask him why he's there, but Stiles continued on before he got the chance.

"Okay, a new _type_ of place. I mean, look at all this." Stiles waved his arms in a circle, encompassing the entirety of the loft. "Leaky pipes, garbage piled everywhere, and is that a hole in the floor? What if I fall through there and die? What if _you_ fall through there and die?"

"I wouldn't die falling a floor down, and neither would you."

Stiles scoffed and started picking his way through a pile of what looked like broken crates, kicking what he could over to the wall. "Maybe not, but that doesn't mean I won't trip over some of this crap, fall on my head, and die that way. Are you going to help me or not?" he asked, hoisting up a piece of a beam lying in the middle of the room.

Derek, however, was just a little caught up in the sudden flex of Stiles' biceps as he settled the beam on his shoulder and carried it over to the pile he was slowly amassing. The kid had obviously managed to bulk up playing lacrosse, more than Derek would have expected. 

And Derek, well, he'd always been more attracted to brains than bodies, you know? He liked having muscle himself, sure, but when you could lift a car (he'd tried once, just to see if he could do it, and had brought the rear bumper all the way up to chest-height), muscles didn't seem quite so impressive. Then again, he'd also never really been presented with the opportunity to admire the physical attributes of someone he was already attracted to on an intellectual level.

“...so, if you can get everyone on board with that, I think we can have this place cleared out, if not liveable, in a few days.”

Derek stared blankly at Stiles, having completely missed pretty much everything he’d said. “What?”

“That blown away by the genius of my plan, huh? It’s alright, no one can resist the mighty Stiles-brain in action.”

Good for them; if they were busy trying to puzzle out what Stiles was thinking, they’d be too busy to really look at him and appreciate everything else. At the moment, it seemed very important that other people weren’t seeing him the same way Derek was. “Just admiring the scenery.” It was good scenery.

“It does look better already, doesn’t it?” Stiles asked, surveying the progress he’d already made. Derek didn’t bother to respond, especially not now that he’d heard Isaac and Peter approaching.

***

Because Derek was clearly a glutton for punishment, he'd decided that making sure they all kept in fighting shape was a good idea. And it _was_ , but in an effort to include Stiles, he'd foolishly suggested running. It was going well enough, if his definition of well enough included missing ninety percent of what Stiles was saying and trying to keep Peter from noticing just how much he was admiring Stiles'...assets from directly behind. Derek shook his head, trying to clear it enough to focus on the conversation.

“I’m just saying,” Stiles paused to suck in a deep breath, “I really think it’ll work. At the very least, it might give us some idea who they are. There’s an Alpha pack, great, but what good does knowing that do us if they could come up behind one of us in the grocery store and gut us before we even had a chance to see their faces. And by we, I mean me.”

“Clever. Once we know who they are, we might even be able to get someone close enough to find out where they’re keeping Erica and Boyd.” Peter grinned at Stiles, and it had just enough of a hint of lust in it to make Derek growl aloud.

“Exactly what I’m saying! And stop looking at me like you want to rip my brain out and eat it. Wit isn’t transferable through cannibalism.”

Peter raised his hands and fell back to pace Derek. He waggled his eyebrows and mimed grabbing a handful of the delectable ass Derek had been unable to look away from for the last mile. Clearly, he had not missed Derek's fascination.

_It’s not his brain I’d like to sink my teeth into._ Peter mouthed silently.

Derek snapped his teeth in response, but Peter just laughed.

“How come you guys are going so much slower than me? You’re werewolves; shouldn’t you have better stamina than this?”

Derek wasn’t touching that one with a ten foot pole, and he glared at Peter when the other man opened his mouth to comment.

***

Derek was actually going to drop dead right where he stood, he was sure. Even Isaac looked a little dazed, and as far as Derek knew, he’d seen Stiles shirtless plenty of times. Not that Stiles was actually shirtless, no, but this….this might legitimately be worse. Because it was summer, and it was warm, and while the loft was passable as a living space, it wasn’t really _comfortable_. Certainly not comfortable enough to have air conditioning.

Which, of course, meant that Stiles was sweating. That would have been plenty distracting on it’s own, but it was making Stiles' shirt cling to his chest in all sorts of interesting ways. Derek pushed himself away from his spot leaning against the wall, pacing the length of the room twice before deciding that a glass of water was in order. Anything to get him out of the room for a few minutes, and if he could cool himself off by pouring the water on his head (or maybe his crotch), so much the better.

He was so close, so _close_ to being home free, and then Stiles had to go and lift his shirt to wipe his face. His pants were sagging lower than was decent, sitting low enough for Derek's eyes to follow the trail of hair down from Stiles' navel straight into-

Derek reeled back as he ran into the wall on his way into the kitchen. The silence following was deafening, and Derek found himself blushing and annoyed at having done so. "Alright, everybody out." No one moved, though they'd all heard him clearly enough. "Now!"

Isaac, Peter, and Stiles all started scrambling to gather up their things, though Stiles had the distinct disadvantage of having brought more with him since he didn't live there. "Not you." Stiles stopped shoving books into his backpack, sighing heavily as he turned to look at Derek.

"What is it that I did now, huh? You've been distracted all afternoon, and you just _ran into a wall_. Whatever I'm doing that's so distracting, just tell me so I can stop. We need everyone on board if we're going to come up with a plan to stop the Alpha pack, and everyone includes you, buddy. So, what is it? My penchant for rambling?" Derek moved closer as Stiles kept going. "My brilliant theories about the Alpha pack? My debonair good looks?"

Stiles gasped as Derek finally got close enough to reach out and push his shirt up, dragging the backs of his knuckles through the hair that had gotten to him so easily. "Your debonair good looks," Derek agreed, smiling a little at the ridiculousness of the phrase.

"Really?" Stiles squeaked. "Because no one's ever...you can't really mean-"

Stiles didn't even have a chance to finish his thought before Derek's arm slid around his waist and dragged him into a breath-stealing kiss. It was better, even, than Derek could have hoped. Feeling that wonderfully firm body pressed against his own, having the chance to run his hands wherever he could reach... Stiles obviously agreed, if the way he shuddered and broke away, breathing heavily, were anything to go by. Derek felt a little winded himself.

"Believe it or not, people are not usually attracted to the whole package. Do you even know how many times I've heard that I'm funny or smart or whatever, but hey, let's just be friends?"

"Their loss."

Stiles looked at him like he might be an alien. "You are something else, dude. Something else entirely." Stiles caught Derek's eyes with his own, sparkling with just a hint of mischief. "Any interest in having a look at the rest of the package?" Stiles sucked in his stomach, and Derek couldn't help watching as his pants slid down just far enough to show the crease that dipped down into his groin. "You know, seeing as we're alone and all."

"Upstairs, now."

Stiles laughed as he grabbed Derek's hand and began dragging him toward the stairs. Even though, or maybe especially because, he was minutes from seeing it naked, Derek still couldn't keep from tracking Stiles' ass on the way up.


End file.
